Tales From The Portable Confessional
by Ala
Summary: Confessions from the cast of Trigun.
1. FIRST CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
FIRST CONFESSION: The Potty Mouth  
  
Nicholas D. Wolfwood sat on the stairs outside of the house that he, Vash, and the insurance girls were staying in, smoking his ever-present crumpled cigarette and pondering life's great mysteries. Like how the people of Gunsmoke managed to make cigarettes even though it was near impossible to grow anything on the desert planet, including tobacco. Shrugging and deciding that some things were best left unsolved, he turned his attention to his approaching friend.  
  
"Hey, Vash." The priest greeted, adding a half-hearted wave.  
  
"Hiya, Wolfwood!" Vash replied in a fake cheery voice, "You wouldn't happen to still have that portable confessional, would ya?"  
  
Wolfwood hesitated, unsure of why Vash might want to confess, but quickly brushed the thought aside and whipped the miniature church out of seemingly nowhere, thinking of nothing but the orphaned children, "Yep! Right here."  
  
"Oh good!" Vash looked very relieved. He handed Wolfwood a handful of double dollars and tried to cram the object over his gravity-defying hair. Of course, the spikes wouldn't go down without a fight, and in the end it ended up holding the confessional just above Vash's eyes, making it look like some odd sort of hat, "Ready."  
  
Wolfwood gave Vash a sideways glance at his new confessional-hat and then just shook his head sadly, "Ok, go ahead."  
  
Vash nodded and began, "Ok, well. this one time when Knives and I were little we were playing in the Rec. Room and we were having lots of fun. We played tag, and hopscotch, and climbed trees, and made flower-crowns, and played leap-frog, and."  
  
Wolfwood cut Vash off. The mental image of Knives with a flower-crown playing hopscotch was confusing him. He wasn't sure whether to be frightened or laugh, "I don't need your life story, Vash."  
  
Vash nodded again and then continued, "Well anyway, we were having a great time and then Rem came in and said it was time for dinner. I didn't want to go in, so I. I-I. I said. I called. I. I-I."  
  
Wolfwood let out an aggravated sigh, rolling his eyes at his friend, who was nearly in tears, "Just spit it out!"  
  
"Icalledherthes-word!" the gunman blurted out and then started crying.  
  
"Which s-word?" Wolfwood asked, slightly confused.  
  
"I can't say it.!" Vash sobbed, "It's too horrible to speak of!"  
  
"Shithead?" Wolfwood tried.  
  
"Nooooo." Vash continued to cry.  
  
"What was it???"  
  
"I can't tell yooOOOOOOOOOoooooooooou!" Vash wailed.  
  
"Jesus Christ!" the priest cursed, fed up with the Humanoid Typhoon's antics, "Just tell me! What? Skank? Slut? What?!"  
  
Vash instantly stopped crying and glared at Wolfwood, "What did you just call my momma?"  
  
Wolfwood blinked, "I was just."  
  
"Wahhhh!" Vash flying tackled Wolfwood and began pounding his head on the ground, "Don't-THUNK-call-THUNK-Rem-THUNK-those-THUNK-bad things-THUNK-!"  
  
"But you said."  
  
"I ONLY CALLED HER STUPID!" Vash shouted, then realizing he had just said the "s-word", gasped in horror and covered his mouth.  
  
"Stupid? That's not a bad word, Needle Noggin! What's wrong with you?!" Wolfwood shrieked engaging Vash in another fight.  
  
That was the state the insurance girls found them in when they got home ten minutes later.  
  
AN: I know. I know. Curse me, I'm a horrible person. I've started another fanfiction when I can't keep up with the ones I have now, but I just couldn't resist. I can have some serious fun with this one. Anyway, R 'n' R! 


	2. SECOND CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
SECOND CONFESSION: The Apocalypse  
  
Wolfwood was not a happy camper.  
  
No, siree. Although, it seemed that everyone else within a ten ile radius was. Millie had invited the traveling priest, shorter insurance girl, and legendary gunman to come with her to meet her family and to put it lightly the combined cheerfulness of the Thomson family gathered in one place was enough to make even Vash rethink his opinions on suicide. Deciding to escape the ever-happy family Wolfwood had stepped outside and was now leaning against the house trying to devise an escape plan. So far, no luck, but he kept thinking.  
  
That is until a certain teary-eyed insurance girl found him.  
  
"Mr. Priest?" Millie sniffled, managing to look incredibly sad for someone who was always so happy.  
  
"Millie? What's wrong?" Wolfwood was very concerned, if not scared for his life. A Thomson crying? Wasn't this one of the signs of the apocalypse?  
  
"Mr. Wolfwood, do you have your portable church with you?" Millie asked, wiping a tear from her eye.  
  
"Yeah." Wolfwood trailed off and whipped the confessional out of seemingly nowhere, "Here," he handed it to the sobbing girl, "it's on the house."  
  
She nodded and placed the confessional on her head, "Uhmm. well, you see.. Little big brother and me were playing chess and he beat me and I said ." she paused here to sniffle again, "'Oh darn it.' And then big big sister said that Sempai was a bad influence on me and I told her . I told her. I told her to GO TO HELL!" she broke down here hysterical.  
  
"Oh that's ok, big girl. Sometimes we all lose our temper. I'm sure your little big sister understands." Wolfwood tried.  
  
Millie lifted the confessional off of her head, "But little big sister is playing with little little brother. She's a teacher, ya know, and little little brother wants to be a doctor. I think that's just great. My uncle was a doctor. Middle big brother wanted to be a doctor too but he ended up owning a store. oh and." Millie trailed off rambling on happily about all of her family, her previous 'episode' forgotten. And all was well on the planet Gunsmoke.  
  
AN: Ok, that was rather similar to Vash's, but I liked it. Anyway, I'd like to thank all the people that reviewed the first chapter, even though I know for a fact that 45 people looked at it and only 4 reviewed!! What's up with that? Ya know, I do have the extra services I know how many people read my stuff. **sigh** Oh well, "happy reader" I have played FFVII and I've come to the conclusion that anyone that comes from an anime and/or video game must be born with naturally gravity-defying hair. The people with normal hair must have to work to get it not to stick up. It's another one of those great mysteries of life. Nehoo, I think I'll be starting with confessions from the Gung-Ho Guns soon. So R 'n' R and I might post the next chapter tomorrow. 


	3. THIRD CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
THIRD CONFESSION: Fear Martha  
  
"Nicholas D. Wolfwood." A quiet voice drawled.  
  
The aforementioned man mentally cursed, wondering why Legato always felt the need to call him by his full name and just what the hell he wanted now? Wolfwood had not been having a good week, what with the confession from Vash and barely surviving the Thomson family, and some how he doubted Legato Bluesummers was going to make his mood any better.  
  
"Yes, Sir?" Wolfwood forced out. He wasn't quite sure why he was supposed to refer to Legato as a superior. he wasn't even technically a Gung-Ho Gun yet and therefor the blue-haired psychopath wasn't technically his boss, but somehow he didn't like the idea of arguing with someone who could make you do anything their twisted little black heart desired. Even if it was something as horrible as watching Martha Stuart.  
  
"I require the use of your . portable confessional." The telepath explained slothfully, frowning slightly as he spoke.  
  
Wolfwood was shocked. Surely, Legato, as leader of the Gung-Ho Guns, had thoughtlessly killed hundreds. thousands. maybe even millions? What could he do that was so horrible that he would need to confess for? The priest mentally shrugged, hopefully whatever it was would be good blackmail material.  
  
He whipped the small church out of seemingly nowhere, something that was becoming a habit for him, and gave it to Legato, "You just put it on your head."  
  
Legato didn't look too pleased with the idea of sporting a new church- headdress, but he didn't say anything, just did as he was told and began to speak in his sedate voice, "Yesterday I did the unthinkable."  
  
.  
  
Silence followed.  
  
.  
  
"Yeah. what'd ya do?" Wolfwood asked, taking probably anyone's only opportunity to flip Legato the bird while he was unaware.  
  
"I saw that, and I hope you enjoy Martha as much as I do." The telepath responded to the rude hand gesture, but then continued, ". I. moved my hair out of my face. .. And then I. I looked out of my other eye!" Legato hissed in a disgusted tone.  
  
Wolfwood suppressed the urge to scream profanities at Legato's lame confession for fear of more Martha Stewart than he could handle and simply stated, "You're forgiven." Grabbed his confessional off of Legato's head and ran out of the room like a bat out of hell.  
  
AN: Ok, I think the whole Martha Stewart thing is funny by itself, but if you really want to know more of the inside joke you have to read the first incident on my other fic Things You Never Knew. I'd like to thank all of my reviewers! I'm very happy you all reviewed, even though some people still aren't and I'd like to point out again that I know you read my fic and don't review, even if you think it's crap! I'd especially like to thank Apples for suggesting Legato next. I was rather lost on what to do next, and as you can see in my other stories he's easy for me to make fun of. even if he is my favorite character. Well. R 'n' R. 


	4. FOURTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
FOURTH CONFESSION: We Need Bleach!!!  
  
Our favorite traveling priest was strolling down the halls of the residence of the Gung-Ho Guns. Ok.. so it was more of a run than a stroll, but he had just been freed from Legato's "torture chamber" which, in fact, was the "family room". While the idea of a the most deadly group of assassins in all of Gunsmoke having a "family room" was a frightening idea by itself, having to watch Martha Stewart with Legato was enough to make a grown man cry.  
  
Which in fact he did.  
  
Poor Nicholas.  
  
Right now all the mentally-damaged man wanted to do was find Vash. and maybe even talk to Millie about the best way to make a plum tart.  
  
Wolfwood came to a dead stop at the thought, shook his head rapidly trying to clean his traitorous mind of all things related to cooking and cleaning, and was about to continue when a hand gripped his arm. Wolfwood spun quickly, still jumpy from what he liked to call "the Martha incident", only to see a panting Midvalley behind him.  
  
"Ya know," the saxophone player huffed, "You're hard to catch."  
  
In fact, had Wolfwood not stopped to rid his mind of the treacherous tart thought Midvalley probably never would have caught him, and to this day he still blamed Legato for that fact.  
  
"I need to use your. thing!" Midvalley explained, unsure of what to call the portable confessional.  
  
"Thing.? What.. 'thing'?" Wolfwood was a little unnerved. He had his suspicions of Midvalley with his pink shirt, and he didn't like where this was going.  
  
"That.. box. church. thing!" Midvalley elaborated.  
  
"Ohhhh! That thing!" Wolfwood said, relieved.  
  
With that said, Wolfwood was about to whip the confessional out of seemingly nowhere, before deciding he needed a change, and instead slowly removed the object from somewhere. He plopped the box on Midvalley's head, hoping to have this confession done quickly before Legato could find something else to make him spend some quality "Martha Time" with him for.  
  
"Ok, well, ya see. Yestaday I was tryin' to find Legato and I accidentally walked in on him in the shower.. and. things happened." Midvalley said, not sounding too embarrassed or ashamed about the matter at all.  
  
Wolfwood repressed the urge to barf all over his nice clean shoes. Desperately wishing he had some bleach with which to clean the nasty groudy horribly image from his brain, he sputtered out a, "Forgiven." Before snatching up his confessional and turning to run for his life, but Midvalley caught his arm.  
  
"Actually me 'n' the boss were wonderin' if ya wanted to join us when we watch Martha Stewart today?" Midvalley said, revealing the ultimate reason for the confession.  
  
Wolfwood muttered, "Oh God no." And then ran in search of something that could cleanse his mind of the horrible images. oh god the images.  
  
AN: Ohh. I'm bad. I'm not really into the whole "slash" thing, but didn't we all think Midvalley was gay with that pink shirt? I know I did! I'm sure he just loves to blow on horns all day. . NO! Not THOSE horns! Of course I meant his saxophone.  
  
Heh.. Anyway, as always I'd like to thank my reviewers, who keep encouraging me to write more of this, even though I know I have other stories that I should update first. Especially happy reader, who not only was my first reviewer, but has reviewed every chapter XD. I'd like to apologize to Tummy Fyre for not doing Meryl. I just couldn't do Meryl yet. I can't for the life of me figure out what she'd confess. Oh, and it's nice to know other people agree on my hair theory. Heh.  
  
I'm not sure who's gonna be up next for the confession. Probably one of the Gung-Ho Guns I like more. Which narrows it down to Dominique, EG, Zazie, or Caine. Probably Caine. *hugs her Caine plushie * So many funny things I can do to poor unsuspecting Caine. R 'n' R if ya want more. If not, I'll probably go work on a different fic. 


	5. FIFTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
FIFTH CONFESSION: Rar!  
  
Wolfwood ran as fast as his legs could carry him towards the laundry room, in hopes of finding bleach for his poor traumatized brain. He found no bleach, but he did find a rather disgusted looking Zazie.  
  
"Hey, preacher man!" Zazie greeted, "I need to use your confession-box."  
  
Wolfwood was reluctant to agree, what with his recent experiences with the miniature confessional, but decided that he really need the money and whipped the box out of seemingly nowhere, as slowly removing the box from somewhere just wasn't working for him.  
  
Zazie looked at the box for a moment, as if it were some time of bug that he should squash, before just holding it.  
  
"You're supposed to put it on your head." Wolfwood instructed.  
  
"Are you kiddin' me?" Zazie asked, looking insulted, "Nothing, and I mean NOTHING, ruins the hair of . the BEAST! RAR!"  
  
Wolfwood blinked and decided it was best just to let the child do as he pleased.  
  
"Anyway, I have a confession to make." Zazie said, still just holding the box, "This morning. I . eaugh. I can't believe I did this." The kid sounded more and more appalled with himself by the second, "I PLAYED with a TOY. Augh."  
  
"There's nothing wrong with playing with toys, Zaz." Wolfwood said, laughing a little as he spoke. He thought he was SO good with kids.  
  
Zazie definitely looked offended this time and hopped to his feet, managing to look menacing even though he was only a third of Wolfwood's height, "The BEAST (rar) doesn't play with toys! The BEAST (RAR) kills people! Especially if they're small children! (RAR!)" he growled, clawing at the air every so often.  
  
Feeling confident that he had gotten his point across, Zazie left the laundry room. Presumably to go look for something to kill himself with, as in his mind he was now not worthy of life because the BEAST (rar) had played with a toy. Wolfwood decided it was time he left.  
  
AN: Ok, next up is E.G. Mine. Ya know, according to the tests at Quizilla.com I'm most like E.G. Mine. Go figure. As always I'd like to thank my lovely reviewers, and I'm still pissed off at those of you who read and don't review. As of now the first chapter of Tales From The Portable Confessional has been viewed 650 times. 650!!! And I've only got 31 reviews??? C'mon people, even if ya don't like it, maybe ya can offer some criticism? And as for how I know this.. I pay $20 a year for the extra services which include: picture on my profile, hit counts, enhanced search engine, and more. **sigh** Oh well. R 'n' R the next chapter should be up by tonight. 


	6. SIXTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
SIXTH CONFESSION: Kitty  
  
Wolfwood was walking down the hallway of the home of the Gung-Ho Guns, once again, looking for the one called Zazie, the Beast (rar). He had almost caught up with the little munchkin when he tripped over something purple, green, and spikey. Wolfwood turned around to look at the creature that had tripped him and was shocked to find a sobbing E.G. Mine.  
  
"Er. what's wrong?" Wolfwood asked, slightly scared of the sobbing psychopath.  
  
The mass of purple, green, and spikes only continued to sob muttering about how he was "bad".  
  
Wolfwood whipped his confessional out of seemingly no where, "Here, buddy, you need it."  
  
E.G. nodded, still crying like a baby, and plopped the box onto his head, "I-I **hiccup** I did a bad thing."  
  
Wolfwood nodded encouragingly, "Yeah, what'd ya do? It's ok."  
  
E.G. continued to bawl, "I . I was killing people in that town way far that way." He stopped hear to sniffle, "and. and I-I-ahhhhhhhwwahhhh!" he broke down again.  
  
Wolfwood sighed. Was E.G. finally having problems with impaling people on spikes? "It's ok, just tell me what you did."  
  
E.G. nodded and continued with a whimper, "I. I accidentally shot a kitty!" he whipped the dead furry animal out from behind him, and continued to cry into it, "I'm so sorry mister kitty! I'll always remember you!"  
  
Wolfwood rolled his eyes, "You're forgiven."  
  
E.G. nodded and rolled away in his spikey shell, probably going to give mister kitty a funeral.  
  
AN: Awwww. Poor E.G. It's ok. Anyway, I'm not gonna bitch at you people again for not reviewing, if you haven't started by now it's not going to help. But I would like to thank everyone that has reviewed, and E.G. wanted me to tell the reviewers that everyone is invited to mister kitty's funeral. :-( Poor E.G.. 


	7. SEVENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
SEVENTH CONFESSION: The Need For Disinfectant  
  
It was a dreary day on the planet Gunsmoke, for today was the day of Mr. Kitty's funeral. Many of the townspeople who had "known" the small black cat attended as well as the entirety of the Gung-Ho Guns at E.G. Mine's threat to quit and spend his life learning to better understand the ways of Mr. Kitty.  
  
.  
  
Of course, the psychopath was more than a little nervous when a cat nearly identical to Mr. Kitty showed up at the funeral. This incident forced E.G. to run off screaming about the voices and the demon cat from Hell, but this was nothing new to any of the Gung-Ho Guns, especially one Nicholas D. Wolfwood.  
  
Wolfwood stood off to the side, smoking a cigarette, and hoping to high Hell that no one would ask to confess anything. Usually he was eager to listen to peoples problems because he really needed the money, and everybody knew that Knives paid crap. With recent events in mind, though, he was more content just to get this thing over with and make his way back to Vash and the insurance girls where everything was nice and relatively normal. However, this prayer fell on deaf ears, for at that precise moment Millions Knives made his way over to the priest, spraying his hand furiously with what looked like disinfectant, and glaring at the two little girls that were trailing behind him.  
  
The situation in itself didn't really bother Wolfwood that much. The scene looked logical, to say the least, and the traveling priest really didn't mind listening to Knives whine about humans, as he was forced to listen to his brother whine all the time and was already used to it. The thing that really troubled Wolfwood was that his "fearless leader" was wearing a flower crown.  
  
"Wolfwood." Knives grumbled as a greeting.  
  
"Knives." Wolfwood returned the greeting, adding a small bow to the end.  
  
"I wish to use your spider confessional." Knives ordered, "Make no misunderstanding. This does not mean I believe in your foolish spider ways, but desperate times call for desperate measures."  
  
Wolfwood followed orders and handed Knives the confessional, still eyeing the flower crown. Noticing this Knives whipped the flower crown off and flung it into the distance as he slipped the confessional onto his head.  
  
"I saw those to twin spider children," he said, gesturing to the two girls behind him, "and they reminded me of Vash and I, so I. I. I. eaugh. I think I'm gonna be sick." Knives paused again to spray his hand with disinfectant again, "I PLAYED with them. Eaugh.. uhh.."  
  
Wolfwood snatched the confessional off of Knives's head, muttered, "You are forgiven." And jogged away so as not to see his Master barf all over Mr. Kitty's nice funeral. Unfortunately, he didn't get far enough to not hear the two twin girls chime in unison, "Come play hopscotch with us Unkie Knifez."  
  
AN: Sorry that took so long. I was at Megan's house and I couldn't update from there, and then there was that huge power outage along the east coast, where I, unfortunately, live. Anyway, I'd just like to say I'm so happy with all of you for reviewing! R 'n' R. Next up is Caine, the Longshot. *hugs her Caine plushie* 


	8. EIGHTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
EIGHT CONFESSION: Spelling Slip Up  
  
Nicholas D. Wolfwood was looking forward to getting back to watching Vash the Stampede. At least with Vash things were relatively predictable. Ya know, eat donuts, get slapped by insurance girls, destroy city, move to next town. Here, things were. strange. Everyone had deep dark secrets that were starting to come out and he had no doubt it was one of those 'Government Conspiracies' E.G. was always muttering about. All Wolfwood really wanted to do was survive his last day with the Gung-Ho Guns before he was permitted to leave to fulfill his duty of protecting Vash. Was that really so much to ask?  
  
Apparently it was because just as Wolfwood was getting ready to go to his room and lock the door until he was allowed to leave he was caught by a hand, ".."  
  
Wolfwood turned to face Caine, the Longshot, who gestured for Wolfwood to follow him outside. Wolfwood obeyed, as it was not a good idea to get on Caine's bad side because he was good friends of the obviously psychotic E.G. Mine.  
  
Once outside Caine grabbed a stick that was laying in the sand and began to write:  
  
Forgive me, Father, For I have Sinned.  
  
Wolfwood nodded, "Continue."  
  
Caine continued:  
  
Yesterday I did the unthinkable. I ate Mac 'n' Chese after I vowed never to eat it again after my horrible "macaroni accident" five years ago that scarred my face.  
  
Wolfwood nodded, "I completely understand. You are forgiven, and 'cheese' is spelled with two E's."  
  
Caine nodded and walked off, contemplating how he could have possibly let his spelling slip over the years.  
  
AN: Ok, I'm leaving for a while, won't be back til Monday when I start highschool. All I can do is try from now on since I have so many fics going. Reviews are greatly appreciated as if I do not receive them I will now be forced to put fics on delay. 


	9. NINTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
NINTH CONFESSION: Obsessed? We think so.  
  
Wolfwood was incredibly too happy to be back with Vash and the insurance girls. He had made a daring escape the following morning of Caine's confession, and was now about to eat dinner with the three oddballs he called friends. He was walking down the hall, minding his own business, when someone grabbed him from behind and pulled him into a broom closet. It was pitch black in the small closet, until a click was heard and a small dangling light bulb illuminated the form of Meryl Stryfe, Bernardelli Insurance Claim Investigator.  
  
"I need to talk with you." She said, getting down to business.  
  
"Did you really have to pull me into a broom closet for that?!" Wolfwood shrieked.  
  
Meryl immediately punched him in the stomach, silencing him, "SHUT UP! HE CAN'T HEAR US!"  
  
"Who hear what?" Wolfwood asked, still clutching his stomach.  
  
"Vash. I uh. have a confession to make." Meryl blushed.  
  
Wolfwood was about to whip his confessional out of seemingly nowhere, but Meryl beat him to it. Within seconds a Vash-plushie was whipped out of seemingly no where, and Meryl began to cuddle with it.  
  
"O.k. Go. a.head." Wolfwood said backing further into the corner of the closet.  
  
Meryl held up the Vash plushie for him to see, "This is Vash. I've been talking to him for the past month. I think I'm obsessed, and I need help." She resumed cuddling.  
  
"That's for damn sure." Wolfwood muttered.  
  
"WHAT?!" Meryl bellowed, beginning to beat the living. well whatever it was in Wolfwood that was living out of him.  
  
Wolfwood opened the closet door and the two fell out. right in front of Vash, who promptly burst into tears and began running down the hall.  
  
Meryl and Wolfwood looked at each other and blinked before both chasing after Vash screaming, "It's not what it looks like!"  
  
AN: . Bet you never expected that. Poor Vash. I think he may have another confession after this. but he may not. I haven't decided yet. The plushie has not willed it **hugs her Vash and Legato plushies**. Review or the fic gets delayed. You know the drill. 


	10. TENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
TENTH CONFESSION: Match Made in Heaven  
  
"Vash, wait!" Wolfwood was, and had been for the past five minutes, screaming for Vash to stop.  
  
The Humanoid Typhoon, ignored him again, and continued to run down the hall screaming, crying, and flailing his limbs wildly. Apparently, he was still convinced that Wolfwood and Meryl's time in the closet wasn't spent talking about Vash.  
  
"Vash, stop before you hurt yourself!" Wolfwood tried again, but his warning was a little too late, as precisely ten seconds later Vash the Stampede, legendary gunman, ran straight into the wall with a loud 'thud' sound.  
  
Wolfwood came to a screeching halt, managing to stop but losing his balance in the process and toppling over onto Vash.  
  
"Wolfwood, how could you?!" Vash was beginning to hyperventilate now, "I thought you were my friend!"  
  
"We were talking about you! We weren't doing. oh god. THAT!" Wolfwood shouted, "Here," he whipped the portable confessional out of seemingly nowhere, "I think you need this."  
  
Vash tried to stuff the box over his head, but like the first time, it didn't quite work. He somehow managed to crush the miniature church over his gravity-defying hair, but lost his grip, causing the box to spring up and lodge itself in the ceiling. Vash muttered a 'sorry' and then pulled a Meryl plushie out of somewhere in his coat. It was apparent that Vash had made the crude doll himself. He quickly began snuggling with it.  
  
"Déjà vu." Wolfwood muttered, glancing at the hideous plushie.  
  
"Wolfwood, I think I'm in love." Vash stated, gazing at the plushie with googly-eyes.  
  
"Ah, Christ. I give up." our favorite preacher hissed before turning around and storming off.  
  
Unfortunately for him, though, he didn't turn quick enough to see Meryl run out of the shadows and flying tackle Vash. The poor priest was starting to think he, himself, might need to confess soon.  
  
AN: No, that does not mean Wolfwood is next. I haven't decided who's next. Probably Kuroneko. Anyway, you can't tell from my fics, but I'm not exactly a huge Meryl fan, sadly though, I do stick to the Vash/Meryl Millie/Wolfwood coupling. Review or the fic goes down on the priority list. 


	11. ELEVENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
CONFESSION ELEVEN: DERRRRRRRRIIIIIINGGGGGGEEEEEEER!  
  
After Meryl had sprung from the shadows Wolfwood decided it best that he left the couple alone, so he left again for the home of the Gung-Ho Guns and, for her own safety, took Millie with him. It hadn't taken them horribly long to reach the bright green seeds ship (Legato had gone wild redecorating), and Nick was more than relieved to be free of the fear of walking in on Vash and Meryl "drinking coffee," for that was what they called it.  
  
Before the pair were in the door for more than a minute they were attacked by E.G. Mine and a furry blob.  
  
"Lookit! Lookit!" he was screaming, "I have found Mr. Kitty's friend, Kuroneko 'n' he wantsa confess."  
  
Wolfwood frowned at the idea of listening to a cat's confession, but if E.G. was willing to pay the fee he would listen to sand if he had to. He turned to see what Millie thought of the idea, but she was already gone.  
  
"Nyaooooo. Nyao, Rarow, Nyao. Nyaooooooooooooooooooo." The cat wailed.  
  
Wolfwood paused, unsure of what the creature was trying to tell him, and E.G. began to translate.  
  
"He says that he's been stalking Vash. He says he wants the $60,000,000,000 reward, but the master gunman has evaded his claws!"  
  
(100 iles away)  
  
"Vash, hang on a second. I'll be right back."  
  
"But , Meryl.."  
  
But she was already gone.  
  
(With Wolfwood)  
  
"Ok, well that's.." Wolfwood never got the chance to finish his sentence because at that second Meryl "Derringer" Stryfe popped through the floor.  
  
"DERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIIINNNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGER! Vash is mine!"  
  
Unfortunately, Kuroneko did not survive the hell-spawn known as Meryl and E.G. left in tears again.  
  
AN: You know the drill. Blar. 


	12. TWELFTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
TWELFTH CONFFESION: Mah Poncho  
  
Zazie had been pushed too far this time. He could live with Midvalley stealing the remote. He could live with Midvalley playing with the sandworms. He could even live with him playing his stupid saxophone when SOME people were trying to sleep, but taking his poncho was just too much, and now it was time for (bwa ha ha) REVENGE.  
  
It hadn't taken the child long to find Nicholas D. Wolfwood. He was sitting in the kitchen, half-smiling, with a dazed look on his face, watching one Millie Thompson gorge herself on pudding.  
  
Perfect, thought Zazie, and he walked over.  
  
"Mr. Wolfwood?" Zazie asked in his best childish voice.  
  
"Yes?" asked the priest, with an unusually kind smile on his face.  
  
"I have a confession to make." Zazie said slowly.  
  
"Yesss?" asked Wolfwood, seeming a little nervous now.  
  
"Well, you see. I've been keeping a secret and I need to tell somebody, and.." Zazie trailed off.  
  
"What/" Wolfwood asked suspiciously.  
  
"Wellll," damn, Zazie was a good actor, "last week I saw Midvalley come home late," he pause dramatically, "with HER!"  
  
Millie continued to eat, unaware she was being spoken of.  
  
"WHAT?!"  
  
Oh, yes, Zazie was good. 


	13. THIRTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
THIRTEENTH CONFESSION: Breaker of the Indestructible  
  
Nicholas D. Wolfwood was beyond mad. He was absolutely livid, and what was worse was he couldn't find Midvalley the Hornfreak. Wolfwood was in the process of ripping apart the kitchen searching for the soon-to-be-dead jazzman when Hopperd found him.  
  
"Mr. Wolfwood, I have decided to grace you with my confession." The man said in a high-pitched voice.  
  
Wolfwood, however, did not notice, he instead picked up a toaster and shook it to see if Midvalley was hiding in it. Finding nothing but bread crumbs, he threw the appliance over his shoulder, managing to hit Hopperd in the head with his blind throw.  
  
"Wolfwood!" Hopperd screamed, and the glass in Wolfwood's hand shattered into a million pieces.  
  
"WHAT?!" the priest snapped back.  
  
"If you listen to my confession I'll tell you where Midvalley is!" Hopperd offered. By the time Hopperd had finished his sentence Wolfwood had already whipped the confessional from seemingly no where and slammed it down on poor Hopperd's already toaster-stricken head.  
  
"Ow." The Gung-Ho Gun whimpered.  
  
"Get on with it!" Wolfwood shrieked, waving his arms wildly even though he knew the human-bullet couldn't see him.  
  
"Well, fine them!" Hopperd said, crossing his arms, "If you don't want to listen to me I'll just leave."  
  
Realizing the assassin, who, by the way, was acting more like an over sensitive teenage girl, was his only clue as to where the HornFREAK was hiding, Wolfwood pushed Hopperd back into his chair, "No, no, no! Hopperd, Hopperd, Hopperd! You're my friend. I want-no, NEED-to know what's wrong!"  
  
Hopperd sniffled, "Really?"  
  
"Yes." Wolfwood sighed, hoping to high hell that the idiot would just get straight to the point and tell him where Midvalley was.  
  
Hopperd smiled, even though you couldn't see it through his mask and began to chatter on, "Okay! Yesterday, I was playing dodgeball with E.G. and Kuroneko-sama, and E.G., the dirt cheater that he is, threw that stupid cat at me!" he paused here to collect himself, "Anyway, the cat's claws caught the edge of my shield and that bastard chipped it!" he gestured to a small two centimeter wide gouge out of the "indestructible" shield.  
  
"Oh, really, that's too bad, Hopperd. You should talk to Legato about getting that fixed, but where's that cheatinglyingmanwhore, Midvalley?"  
  
"Oh, he's hiding under Legato's bed. Zazie told him something about completing t5he ultimate revenge and what not for touching the 'Beast's (rar) magical poncho!'"  
  
But when Hopperd took the confessional off, Wolfwood was already gone. 


	14. FOURTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
FOURTEENTH CONFESSION: Dr. Frankenstein  
  
Wolfwood entered Legato's room silently, wishing with all his might that Midvalley had chose a less frightening place to hide. Any man in his right mind would rather be anywhere but here, and again Nicholas asked himself just what exactly he was doing in the horrific room. The walls were covered in light-pink teddy bear wall paper, but someone had, apparently, taken a black sharpie marker and turned all the cute little teddy bear eyes into large X's. The blood-stained shag carpeting was a little less that comforting as well.  
  
"Midvalley!!" Wolfwood called, smirking evilly as he did so, " I know you're in here. Hopperd ratted your ass out so you can just come out!"  
  
A heavy sigh was heard from under the bed and soon Midvalley, the Hornfreak was visible.  
  
"What. is that?!" Wolfwood asked disgustedly, staring at the various colors of material and stuffing covering the poor jazz musician.  
  
"Oh," Midvalley said, looking down at himself, "Some of Legato's old plushies were stuffed under there. Apparently, he was quite the doctor Frankenstein when he was younger." Midvalley answered, pulling some sort of child's toy out of his pocket.  
  
The. thing had the body and a leg of a teddy bear, a leg of a Barbie, a monkey's tail, the head of a bunny rabbit, and a pair of fins of some sort for arms. The shabby stitching job was starting to wear over the years since it had been completed and stuffing was beginning to protrude from various holes in the poor, poor creature.  
  
"My Lord." Wolfwood muttered, absolutely horrified at the sight before him.  
  
"I know." Midvalley sighed, throwing the creature behind him in any random direction, "Do I get a last request?"  
  
". I guess." Wolfwood answered, setting the knife he had taken with him from the kitchen back down.  
  
"Oh, okay." Midvalley chirped happily, "I want to confess before I die so I can get into heaven and all that jazz."  
  
Wolfwood waited patiently for Midvalley to continue. He didn't.  
  
"So. confess."  
  
"Don't I get to use that little-church-box-hat-thing?" Midvalley asked, pouting.  
  
In his fit of rage the traveling priest hadn't thought to bring the portable confessional. Although, he should've expected it with the way things had been going lately, "I didn't bring it."  
  
"So, you were going to murder someone without letting them confess first?" Midvalley asked, appearing to be utterly shocked, "I don't think God would approve of that. What kind of churchman are you anyway?"  
  
"Oh, get on with it!" Wolfwood hissed, his already low patience beginning to diminish.  
  
". anyway," Midvalley began, "I've been hiding in there for a day now, and the things I've seen have been absolutely. terrible." He paused here to shudder violently, "Like the other day, Legato came in here with Knives, and, oh God! The noises!"  
  
Wolfwood covered his ears at this point and proceeded to sing, "I'm not listening! La la la la la!"  
  
And with that Wolfwood ran from the room before whatever small bit of sanity he had left could be shattered.  
  
Midvalley smirked. Sure, Zazie was good, but Midvalley was better. 


	15. FIFTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
FIFTEENTH CONFESSION: The Jealous Priest  
  
Wolfwood had high-tailed it out of there as fast as he could manage. All he wanted to do was to find Millie and get back to Vash, who was, apparently, less mentally deranged than his brother, before anything particularly gruesome happened to him or Millie.  
  
Wolfwood scrambled through the maze that was the home of the Gung-Ho Guns but found the perky insurance girl no where. He was about ready to go back to the kitchen and check the toaster again, when, out of no where, Dominique materialized and grabbed his arm.  
  
"Nick, I have a confession to make." She said looking at the ground.  
  
"Can't talk, busy now." Wolfwood muttered and began looking for the way back to the kitchen.  
  
"But Ni-ick! It's really important! If I don't confess now I'm going to have to go kill myself, or Knives, or something drastic like that!" she whined.  
  
"Really busy. Come back later." Wolfwood replied automatically, still walking.  
  
"What's so damn important?" she hissed.  
  
"Have to find Millie before someone kills her, or she teaches Knives the 'ways of the pudding'." Wolfwood said, cringing.  
  
"Oh, well, she went off with-heyyy! If I tell you where she went will you listen to my confession?" she asked sneakily.  
  
Wolfwood narrowed his eyes at her, "I supposed I have no other choice."  
  
She grinned and nodded, "Nope, your trapped, so I'll just go right along and confess."  
  
"You do that." Wolfwood said, still walking.  
  
"Okay," she agreed, "I will. The other day I got bored so I decided I was gonna go find some hot guys, right?"  
  
Wolfwood narrowed his eyes even more, if that was possible, "I didn't picture you as someone who would spend her time making googly eyes at guys."  
  
"I never said, 'making googly eyes'. I said I was going to go looking. I may not have time to very often, but I AM a woman." She said, standing up a little straighter.  
  
"So did I make the list?" Wolfwood asked a bit too eagerly.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Did-I-make-the-list?"  
  
"No, not really." She answered, thoughtfully.  
  
"Why not?!" he shouted.  
  
"You're just not my type."  
  
"Oh, and what IS your type?" he asked indignantly.  
  
"That's beside the point." Dominique answered.  
  
"Just tell me." He ordered.  
  
"agou." She muttered.  
  
"What was that?" Wolfwood asked.  
  
"Legato." She said a but louder.  
  
"Oh my God." Wolfwood stopped dead in his tracks, "So you would pick that psychopath over me?"  
  
"In a word. yes."  
  
"Fine then." Wolfwood shrugged and continued walking.  
  
"Ohhh, is someone jealous?" Dominique teased.  
  
"No." Wolfwood pouted.  
  
"Oh m y God, you are!" Dominique gasped.  
  
"Just hurry up and confess, so I can go find Millie." Wolfwood sighed.  
  
"Fine, fine." Dominique agreed. "So I was gonna go look for guys, when I thought, 'Hey, why not go spy on Legato?' so, anyway, are you paying attention?"  
  
"You never spy on ME!" Wolfwood pouted again.  
  
"Ah Christ," Dominique cursed, "Listen, that insurance girl left about an hour back with Chapel. Go find her before I have to hit you."  
  
"Fine," Wolfwood said, crossing his arms, "I know when I'm not wanted." And then he left. 


	16. SIXTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
SIXTEENTH CONFESSION: The Truth About the Voices  
  
Wolfwood was lost. Not just the "Oops, which way do I go?"-lost either. It was the "Holy shit! I'm lost! I'm going to die a horrible death by those pigmies with the pointy sticks and fire!"-lost. Perhaps it was the fact that our friend, Nick, had only just moved in last month? Then again, it might have been the fact that Knives was incredibly paranoid and had constructed many winding, twisting hallways with all the surveillance equipment money could buy.  
  
Yeah, that was probably it, now that I think about it.  
  
But, anyway, back to our favorite traveling priest. he was wandering the halls aimlessly, having given up on calling for help hours-no, weeks.perhaps even months ago-occasionally flipping an aforementioned surveillance camera off. He was about to give up when he heard a peculiar 'Thump! Thump! Thump!"-sound.  
  
Grey, the Ninelives, rounded the corner and came running down the massive hallway.  
  
"I - have - confession." The robotic voice informed him.  
  
Wolfwood sighed irritably. He really didn't want to hear the latest in genocide technology's confession, but he was unarmed, and he had been walking for so. so very long. The chain-smoking church-man whipped the portable confessional from seemingly nowhere and made to set it on the robot's head.  
  
.  
  
He stopped mid-reach and instead placed the box on Grey's foot, "Confess."  
  
The robot took a moment to process the data and then began, "I - hear - voices."  
  
Wolfwood tried very hard not to stare oddly at Grey, but when a robot tells you it hears voices. it's rather hard not to, "What do the voices tell you?"  
  
"They - say," Grey's robotic voice switched to a recording and a high pitched voice squeaked, "'Ow! Get off my hand!' - 'No, you get off MY foot!' - 'I'm not.' - 'Both of you get off MY head!'"  
  
"That's. umm.. interesting." Wolfwood stuttered, not quite sure what was going on.  
  
Then Grey slouched a bit and a low, "EEEAAAaauuuoooo," sound came form his robotic body. A hidden door in his leg opened, and a small dwarf stepped out.  
  
The miniature man looked up at Wolfwood threateningly and pointed a finger at him, "You tell anyone about this and-" he drew his finger across his neck in the universal sign for 'Your ass is dead,' and crawled back into the robot, shutting the door behind him.  
  
Grey then stood upright with a, "oooaaAAEEEE!" and ran through the nearest wall, leaving an open gap between Wolfwood and the desert. He was free! 


	17. SEVENTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
SEVENTEENTH CONFESSION: and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking  
  
Wolfwood had circled the Gung-Ho Guns' hide out three times before he recognized the forms of his mentor and his girlfriend out about 20 yarz from the path he had worn in the sand. The silhouette of Millie was leaning against Chapel's cross making eccentric motions with her hands, and seeming to be chattering excitedly. Chapel, however, was repeatedly ramming his head into that apple he always carried around.  
  
Wolfwood marched over to the pair, and Millie's happy chatter slowly became audible, ".. and then big little brother said, 'That's not an outlaw; that's my wife!' Hahaha! Isn't that funny, other Mr. Priest?" she asked enthusiastically, not particularly caring that Chapel didn't answer, "One time, little big sister found this spider and she-MR. WOLFWOOD!" she flung herself in Wolfwood's general direction.  
  
Chapel glanced up, and then, realizing Wolfwood was there, jumped up happily as well.  
  
"Wolfwood! Thank God; you're here!" the older man cried happily.  
  
Our favorite priest glanced over Millie's shoulder, as she had attached herself to his midsection. He glared and asked, "And just what were you doing out here with Millie?"  
  
Chapel buried his head in his hands, managing to look as pathetic as he possibly could. (-and let me tell you, folks, Chapel is pretty damn pathetic. He's so pathetic he-) "I confess! I needed to confess to somebody, and my -' sources'-tell me that they had to bribe you, and -I- I..it. was going to kidnap Millie so you'd let me confess, but then she started talking."  
  
"Oh, I love talking to you, other Mr. Priest!" Millie said happily.  
  
Chapel actually began to cry at this point, "Oh God, Wolfwood it was horrible! She just kept-talking! And talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking-"  
  
Wolfwood was getting annoyed.  
  
"--and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking-and then she took a bite out of my apple!" he held the green fruit up for Wolfwood to see. There was, in fact, a neat little tooth mark in it.  
  
Wolfwood shook his head and began to walk away and slowly the sounds of sobbing and "and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking and talking" faded out. 


	18. EIGHTEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
EIGHTEENTH CONFESSION: Yo' Yin 'n' Yo' Yang  
  
WARNING: The below confession is not aimed towards the culturally sensitive. Any offense or insult found in this below fiction is not intended to e taken seriously or personally by the reader. Please be reminded that the below confession is not necessarily the views and opinions of the author but instead of voice #254.  
  
Wolfwood had broke into a dead run when he saw Rei-Dei, dragging poor Millie behind him the whole way. He didn't particularly care for the crazy Japanese man, who insisted he wear traditional clothing no matter how expensive it may be to the Gung-Ho Guns. I t didn't help that Nick had the sneaking suspicion that the samurai wanted to confess, and he wasn't about to hear it.  
  
Unfortunately, Wolfwood had been chain-smoking for years and wasn't quite the athlete he used to be (Don't smoke, kids!), and so Rei-Dei, the Blade, finally caught up with him.  
  
"Nicholas, I require your spiritual services!" Rei-Die yelled, and Wolfwood stopped to catch his breath.  
  
Wolfwood sighed. He knew he wasn't in top physical condition, and he wouldn't be able to run very far, so, begrudgingly, he whipped the portable confessional from seemingly no where. He handed the box to Rei-Dei, but all the samurai did was stare at the confessional as if Wolfwood had just picked his nose and held his finger out.  
  
"I will not put that horrendous stealer of spiritual awareness on my beautiful hair!" he hissed, offendedly  
  
"Fine!" Wolfwood cried, throwing his hands up in surrender, "Then just hold it and confess."  
  
"Fine." Rei-Dei agreed putting his nose up in the air, "I was of at Jiromaru's to pick up my dry-cleaning, and we were chatting about spiritual awareness, like we always do, when this Indian guy comes in and starts yelling at me." He broke into tears at this point.  
  
Wolfwood rolled his eyes and forced out, "What did he say?"  
  
"He called me a crazy jap 'n' said I was a poser. He told me to 'leave spiritual awareness to the Indians 'n' stick with yo' crazy jap yin 'n' yo' yang!"  
  
"Aww, well that's too bad. "Wolfwood feigned sympathy, "Unfortunately, we have to go no-" but when he turned around Millie was gone. 


	19. NINETEENTH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
NINETEENTH CONFESSION: The Cookie  
  
One more confession and he was just going to leave, with or without Millie. Only seconds after Wolfwood had left Rei-Dei he had been attacked, for lack of a better word, by Monev, the Gale. Now, he had no choice but to listen to the confession of the man, who was obviously bigger than him. So here he was. In Monev's room. Having tea and crumpets with the body builder.  
  
"So, Nicholas, how've you been?" Monev asked, setting the flowered teapot down.  
  
"Wolfwood, and if you don't mind I'd like to just get the confession over with." Wolfwood replied icily.  
  
Monev frowned a bit, but daintily sipped his tea with his pinky in the air and then said, "All right then. If you insist. yesterday I-I can't believe I actually did this, I ate a COOKIE!"  
  
Wolfwood rolled his eyes.  
  
"It wasn't even low fat!" Monev shrieked.  
  
"Wolfwood resisted the urge to strangle the other man, "It was just a-"  
  
"-oh God, now I look like a cow!" Monev screamed looking at himself in the mirror, "Does my butt look big?!"  
  
"Actually, it odes look a little-OH GOD WHAT AM I SAYING?!" Wolfwood shrieked and ran from the room before he got the chance to frighten himself anymore. 


	20. TWENTIETH CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
TWENTIETH CONFESSION: One Time When I Was Really Drunk.  
  
It hadn't taken Wolfwood long to find the giant 'exit' Grey had made in the wall and left the building. He had thought Legato and Midvalley's confessions were bad. Monev's had probably scarred him for life. The traveling priest stormed around the outside of the building, searching for Millie.  
  
Unfortunately, for our good friend, Nick, whose sanity was slowly deteriorating, Leonoff found him-or rather, Leonoff's puppet found him- before he found Millie. The incredibly life-like puppet dragged Wolfwood kicking and screaming over to an apparently drunk Leonoff.  
  
"Fix him." The puppet, whom apparently had a mind of his own, ordered.  
  
Leonoff was kneeling in the sand, looking up at Wolfwood, and laughing stupidly, "Hiya, Woolwoody!"  
  
Wolfwood shook his head sadly. Did HE look like this when he was drunk? He sure as hell hoped not. Nick glanced around quickly, looking for an escape. He had left the cross punisher was with Vash & Co., and he wasn't about to face the obviously armed puppet without his gun.  
  
"Hey, hey, hey!" Leonoff was calling, "I gots me a confession, Woolwoody!"  
  
"No." Wolfwood whispered. God really did hate him.  
  
"This one time-when I was really, really, RAHEEEELLY drunk, I made this girl puppet and we-"  
  
"NOOOO!" Wolfwood shouted, running away. Screw Millie! One more confession, he had vowed, and that was it. He would be returning to Vash without Millie. 


	21. TWENTY FIRST CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
TWENTY FIRST CONFESSION: Multiple Personality Disorder  
  
Wolfwood threw the door open to the house where he had left Vash and Meryl. But Meryl was no where to be found. That was just as well. Wolfwood thought she was a bitc-  
  
"-Wolfwood!" Vash cried, latching himself onto Wolfwood's arm. He looked like hell. He wasn't wearing his usual red coat, and his hair was down instead of spiked up like it always was.  
  
"Vash, I'm so glad to see you. Your brother's one crazy son of a-"  
  
"Ericks." Vash interrupted.  
  
"What?" Wolfwood asked, maybe Gunsmoke was just cursed.  
  
"My name is Ericks, Vash went inside my head for a while."  
  
"What/!" Wolfwood cried.  
  
"I have a confession, Wolfwood."  
  
"No!"  
  
"I have multiple personality disorder."  
  
"No more confessions!" Wolfwood cried and quickly locked himself inside of the broom closet.  
  
Nicholas D. Wolfwood crawled into the fetal position; the last of the man's fading sanity now completely gone. 


	22. LAST CONFESSION

TALES FROM THE PORTABLE CONFESSIONAL  
  
LAST CONFESSION: Enter #254  
  
Wolfwood rocked back and forth. Why did everyone want to confess? Better yet, why was everyone so fucked up?  
  
"Hey." A voice whispered in his ear.  
  
Wolfwood spun to find no one but the broom, "Broom?"  
  
"No, no, I'm in your head." The voice whispered again.  
  
"You're. in my head?!" Wolfwood asked, and proceeded to beat himself over the head with the broom, "Get out of my head!"  
  
"Ow! Goddammit!" Stop! I'm here to HELP you!" the voice yelled.  
  
"Help me?" Wolfwood asked quietly.  
  
"Yes, I am #254 and I'm here to let you confess." #254 said very matter-of- factly.  
  
"Oh," Wolfwood squeaked, and then slowly set the confessional on his head, "Okay."  
  
"So, confess." The voice ordered.  
  
"It was me." Wolfwood whispered, "I took the bite out of Chapel's apple. not Millie."  
  
"That's it?!" the voice yelled, "That's your confession? Not how you killed your father or betrayed your best friend?! NO good dirt! An apple?!"  
  
Wolfwood nodded slowly and then began to cackle maniacally.  
  
#254 sighed, "All that work for nothing."  
  
AN: I guess that's it. 


End file.
